Budding Cardiologist
by FemaleChauvinist
Summary: Bashir and Dax are traveling with two young refugees when the younger of the two becomes dangerously ill.
1. Emergency Care

**Disclaimer:** While the attempt has been made to be medically accurate, some artistic license has been taken, and statements made by Dr Bashir are not to be regarded as authoritative. Admoxasaryfain is a product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to an actual drug and/or chemical name is unintentional.

The Krishnan race is a product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to the name of a canon Star Trek race is unintentional. Recognizable characters and plotlines are the property of Paramount and Viacom; all original characters and story © 2015 FemaleChauvinist.

 _Do not post without permission. Do not copy/print without including the above disclaimer in its entirety._

 **A/N: "Season" given for timing reference only; see my profile for the alternate history used in this story. Barbie**

 _Season Six; Bashir courting Dax_

Dr Julian Bashir and Lieutenant Jadzia Dax hurried up the rocky hillside after their guides, a pair of young refugees from the burned-out village several days' walk away. Chitra was sixteen; his brother Bedru twelve, but small for his age. At first glance, they appeared Earth human; their golden-brown skin and thick black hair like someone of Eastern Indian descent. But their eyes gave them away as alien; an amber gold with radiating stripes of a darker brown.

Bedru had dropped slightly behind as they climbed, and now he called out to his brother. "Chitra — let's stop for a rest!"

"We can't here in the open; it's not safe," Chitra said without turning. "There's a cave just up ahead; we'll rest there."

"But I gotta stop, Chitra; my hearts are all out of whack!"

Bashir turned; barely breaking stride he bent to pick the boy up and then hurried again after Chitra. He studied the boy's face, noting its mottled appearance and strange hue as Bedru panted for breath. "Easy; try to breathe slow and deep…"

Chitra glanced back. "Thanks," he said quietly, pausing a moment to let Bashir catch up. "Shoulda known something like this would happen; we ran out of his medication three days ago."

"What's he on?" Bashir asked tersely, pressing two fingers to the double pulse points in Bedru's neck.

"Moxysarfain…I don't know; something like that."

"Admoxasaryfain?"

"Yeah, that sounds right." He looked at Bashir with a glint of hope in his eye. "Where'd you learn to pronounce that; you a doctor or something?"

"Yes." He had introduced himself as Doctor when they first met, but he supposed that in that rushed introduction, trying to throw off their pursuers, the title had escaped Chitra's notice. "We really do need to stop so I can treat him; how long until we reach that cave?"

"Another minute or two — you can see the opening just ahead there."

Bashir nodded and sped up, concentrating half on reaching the cave without stumbling and half on the worsening condition of the boy in his arms.

Bedru coughed dryly as they reached the cave entrance, struggling to get his breath. "It hurts," he whimpered.

"Where?"

Bedru rubbed a hand over his upper abdomen.

"Both sides?" Bashir questioned.

Bedru nodded.

"Just hang on, son," Bashir murmured, laying Bedru on the cave floor and swinging the medkit off his back even as he pulled the tricorder off his belt and began running the scanner over the boy. "I'll get you fixed up in no time."

Dax knelt to open the medkit. "Triox?" she questioned, her hand on the vial.

"No. It's his niter heart; that would be worse than useless. Get out the portable ventilator. Chitra, is he allergic to any drugs or medications?"

"I…don't know. I don't think so," Chitra answered doubtfully.

Bashir lightly touched Bedru's cheek. "Bedru, I'm going to sedate you so I can put you on a ventilator; it's going to help you breathe." He turned toward Dax, asking for the sedative and taking the hypospray she handed him.

The drug worked quickly, relaxing Bedru's throat so Bashir could insert the tube from the ventilator. He turned the machine on, adjusting the settings.

While completely breathable for both Terran and Trill, the composition of air on this planet was different than on Earth, Trill, or the space station. He programmed the ventilator now to increase the oxygen level by ten percent and the nitrogen level by fifty, then set the pressure at ninety percent of its highest level; full pressure would have been too strong for a child's lungs.

He reached for the tricorder again and frowned as he ran another scan. "That's a dangerous rhythm…laser scalpel, Dax."

"You're not… _operating_?" Dax couldn't help asking even as she handed him the instrument.

"No. Get me the defibrillator." He flicked the scalpel on and cut through Bedru's clothes.

Bashir put the defibrillator pads over Bedru's heart, then stared at his tricorder with a finger on the control, timing the shock exactly opposite the beat of the oxal heart.

"Normal rhythm," he said with relief. "Adrenaline and admoxasaryfain."

As she gave Bashir the drugs he asked for, Dax found herself marveling at what a good xenologist he was. Watching him work, she would have been prepared to believe he had treated nothing but Krishnans his whole life, when as far as she knew this was actually his first time.

Of course, she knew he could simply be projecting a false air of confidence, and he did have a belief in his own abilities that sometimes bordered on arrogance. But she had seen him work enough times to believe he really did know exactly what he was doing. If he _was_ arrogant…maybe it was because he had a right to be.

Bashir injected the stimulant, then a dose of admoxasaryfain twice as high as what he surmised Bedru had been taking daily. He scanned his hearts again, his expression not easing. "Still too weak and slow… Dax, hold this where I can see it; I'll have to massage his heart."

Dax obediently took the tricorder, her eyes fixed on Bashir's face as he bent over the boy, pumping his heart steadily. He watched the reading of the oxal heart on the tricorder, timing his thrusts exactly between its beats.

After sixty seconds he paused to see what the heart's rhythm was on its own. He grunted softly. "Not what I'd like to see, but better…probably the best I'm going to get for now."

He tested the oxygen and nitrogen levels in Bedru's blood, then adjusted the settings on the ventilator. Turning to the medkit, he took out IV supplies and began setting up a slow saline drip, deftly inserting the needle in the back of Bedru's hand.

Without being asked, Dax took a reflective thermal blanket out of the medkit and tucked it over the boy's still form. "Julian, can I give him something softer under his head?" she asked in a low voice.

"Something very flat," Bashir cautioned. "His niter blood pressure's still on the low side, so I don't want his head raised too much."

Dax nodded her understanding, pulling off her outer uniform shirt and folding it to tuck under Bedru's head. Leaving him to Bashir then, she crossed to where Chitra sat with his arms wrapped around his knees watching the doctor work with haunted, fearful eyes.

Sitting beside him, Dax slipped an arm around him. "It's all right, Chitra," she said softly.

"He's — still unconscious," Chitra gasped.

"Dr Bashir has him sedated. He'd doing all he can, and your brother's heartbeat is a lot stronger." She could interpret the tricorder readings that much herself, as little as she knew of Krishnan anatomy. "He's the best doctor in Starfleet; Bedru couldn't be in better hands."

Chitra leaned against her, accepting her comfort, and Dax was suddenly struck by how young he truly was. Too young, really, to suddenly have full guardianship of his brother thrust on him as it had been. So Dax tenderly stroked his hair, taking the place for the moment of the mother he had lost.

 **Next chapter coming next week!**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


	2. Night Watches

**Chapter Two: Night Watches**

"You two need to get some sleep," Bashir said as the sun set and the cave was lit only by the faint blue glow of his medical equipment.

"I couldn't sleep," Chitra said dully.

"I can give you something," Bashir offered.

Chitra hesitated a moment, then nodded. "All right. Can I…say good night to him first?"

"Of course. I wouldn't be surprised if he could hear you, at least on some level." He turned to get the mild sedative from the medkit as Chitra said good night to his brother, giving him some semblance of privacy.

"You'd better lie down first; this stuff works pretty fast in some people," he cautioned.

Chitra found a fairly comfortable spot on the cave floor, and Bashir quickly administered the drug. Dax bent to cover him with another thermal blanket, then pressed a mother's gentle kiss to his forehead. "Good night," she told him softly. "Sweet dreams."

She straightened to find Bashir watching her from where he once more sat at Bedru's side. "If you're giving out good-night kisses, how about one for me?"

Jadzia laughed, but came and kissed his cheek. "Good night, Julian." She hesitated, as if she would have said more, then crossed the cave to curl up a short distance from Chitra.

As the sound of her breathing told him he was the only one left awake in the cave, Bashir sighed, wishing for a datapadd…or Kukalaka. He had spent more sleepless nights than he would admit talking to the bear, thinking out loud; it at least seemed further from insanity than talking to himself, and night after night spent awake grew lonely.

He kept a close eye on Bedru's condition, adjusting the ventilator settings and giving him more admoxasaryfain and sedative as needed. Just once he was forced to pace Bedru's niter heart slightly as its rhythm got too out of sync with the oxal heart.

 **oOo**

An hour or two after midnight, Dax stirred and sat up on her elbow, watching Bashir for a moment. "Julian, have you slept at all?" she called softly.

Bashir glanced up. "I dozed some," he lied.

Dax got up and crossed to his side. "Let me watch him for a while so you can sleep."

Bashir smiled tightly. _If only I could!_ "Has any of your hosts been a doctor, Dax?"

"No, but you can tell me what to watch for, and you'll be right there."

Bashir hesitated, then shook his head. "Thank you, but better not. He's still critical; I think I'd prefer he remain under medical supervision for a while yet." He gave her a lopsided grin. "I need less sleep than the average human; probably wouldn't have slept much tonight anyway."

Dax looked at him as if she didn't believe him, but didn't try to argue. "You at least want some company?" she offered.

"Company would be most welcome," Bashir murmured. "But if you start looking tired, you're going back to bed."

"Look who's talking," Dax scoffed. She sat beside him, resting her chin on her knees, and suddenly the night seemed less lonely.

 **Next chapter coming next week!**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


	3. Side Effects

**Chapter Three: Side Effects**

An hour or two before dawn, Bashir stopped giving Bedru the sedative. They would need to move on that day if at all possible, and while he fully expected to be carrying Bedru, he preferred not to do it with the boy on full ventilation.

"Easy, son," Bashir murmured as Bedru's eyes began to flutter open. "You have a tube in your throat to help you breathe; don't fight it."

His eyes nearly frantic, Bedru tried to talk and then gestured for Bashir to remove the tube.

"In a minute," Bashir told him soothingly, running a scan and frowning as he found the oxal heart rate slightly elevated; the niter heart still lagging but now on the high side. "I want to make sure you can breathe all right on your own first." He gradually lessened the pressure of the ventilator, closely monitoring Bedru's respiration and the levels of nitrogen and oxygen in his blood.

"All right; I want you to cough while I pull the tube out."

"It hurts!" Bedru whimpered as soon as his throat was clear to speak.

Bashir's hand went instantly to his tricorder. "Your belly?"

"My head!" Bedru nearly sobbed, rolling to his side and pressing his hands over his eyes.

Bashir stopped mid-scan, dire possibilities running through his mind. The pain at least explained the high heart rates, but it could indicate serious complications from the imbalance of oxygen and nitrogen levels. For a wild second, Bashir wondered if he dared attempt emergency brain surgery here in the cave, if he found it necessary.

"That moxy-whatever sometimes gives him migraines," Chitra offered.

Bashir spun toward him. "I thought you said you didn't know of any adverse reactions," he said harshly, irritable in his very relief that it was nothing more serious than a migraine.

Chitra flinched. "You asked about _allergies_ ; the migraines are a side effect."

"I see. Are there any other reactions — of _any_ kind — that I should be aware of?"

Chitra flushed and looked away. "No."

Bedru whimpered at the loudness of their voices, and Bashir turned back to him, his bedside manner firmly in place once more. "Here, son; can you move your hands just for a minute?"

"Hurts!" Bedru cried as Bashir scanned his head, preferring to err on the side of caution rather than assume Chitra's diagnosis was correct.

"I know," Bashir soothed. "I'm going to give you some medicine to make it hurt less." He fitted the vial of analgesic in the hypospray and injected a low dose.

"That won't take the pain away completely; maybe this will help." He took a gel pack out of the medkit and cracked the metal disk to start the cool reaction, then laid it on Bedru's forehead. "Tell me if it still hurts too much, and I'll give you a little more pain reliever."

"All-all right," Bedru sniffled.

Bashir scanned his hearts again, finding the rhythms slowing as Bedru's pain lessened. Switching the ventilator tube for a mask, he fitted it over Bedru's mouth and nose and adjusted the settings, then closed his eyes, second-guessing his treatment now. Had he known about the migraines, would he have administered such high doses of admoxasaryfain?

Thinking back over every scan he had run through the night, he came to the conclusion that he would have done no differently; the only change he might have made would have been to give the boy low doses of analgesic as a preventative.

Yet he shuddered to think what might have happened had Chitra failed to tell him of a side effect more life-threatening and less easily treated.

"Is he going to be all right?" Chitra asked in a low voice.

Bashir drew a deep breath, wondering how much detail he should go into; how much Chitra simply needed reassurances that, while not lies, weren't the full truth.

"He's relatively stable for now," he said slowly, "but his niter heart's still beating a fraction of a second too slow. In any one cycle that doesn't cause a problem, but over time it puts his hearts out of sync."

"But you can fix that, right?" Chitra asked anxiously.

"I can pace his niter heart, yes, but he really needs to be in a hospital until it's beating at a more normal rhythm."

"Do we have time to eat before we leave?" Dax asked in a low voice.

"Yes, but let's not linger too long."

Chitra wordlessly passed out the food from the pack he was carrying.

"Bedru, do you think you can eat anything?" Bashir asked softly.

"I'm not hungry, Dr Julian," Bedru said apologetically.

"That's fine. Just try to drink a little water for me, all right?"

Bedru obediently sipped the water as Bashir held his head up. The doctor had long since removed the empty IV bag, leaving the port in Bedru's hand covered with a neat bandage. He would have preferred to keep the boy on intravenous fluid, but mindful of his limited supply of saline, had decided to ration what he had.

Bashir ate his own portion quickly, then scanned Bedru once more. With Dax's help, he wrapped Bedru in the thermal blanket, making sure it opened in the front for quick, easy access to Bedru's heart if necessary. As she pulled her overshirt back on, he hooked the portable ventilator to his belt.

"I'll carry this, Julian," Dax offered, closing the medkit and swinging it to her back.

Bashir nodded. "Thanks." He picked Bedru up, settling him comfortably against his chest. "Bedru, I want you to tell me if you start feeling different at all, good or bad, all right?"

Bedru nodded against him.

"Then let's go."

 **Next chapter coming next week!**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


	4. Setting the Pace

**To guest reviewer Major Julia:** Thanks for the nice reviews! As for your suggestion regarding Julian getting sick, I tend to prefer stories where _he's_ being the doctor. However, I do have one story planned (but probably won't get to write it for a while) where he's badly injured himself, but refuses treatment so he can save Jadzia's life.  
I'll check the settings for guest reviews, but I did get the reviews you posted for "Knowledge in Dangerous Doses" and "Molly's Malady." Thanks again! Barbie

 **Chapter Four: Setting the Pace**

Chitra at first seemed to slow his steps for the doctor's sake, but then began to realize that Bedru's added weight was little burden to him; that he seemed in no danger of stumbling even as he climbed over rocks without his arms for balance. Gradually, Chitra resumed their speed of the day before.

At a tug on his uniform, Bashir instantly looked down, pushing Bedru's respiratory mask aside. "What is it, son?"

"I'm…gonna be sick!" Bedru said urgently, retching even as he finished speaking.

Bashir crouched instantly, supporting the boy as he vomited violently. There was little in his stomach to come up, but when it was empty the dry heaves continued in choking spasms that shook his whole body.

Bashir looked up sharply to see Dax kneeling beside the open medkit, her eyes fixed on him as she awaited his request. Within seconds, the hypospray of anti-nausea medication was in his hand, and he injected it in Bedru's neck. "Easy, son," he murmured, rubbing Bedru's back. "Take slow, deep breaths; in through your nose and out through your mouth. That's it; you're going to be fine."

As the spasms eased, Bedru fell limply into Bashir's arms, panting raggedly.

Bashir held a canteen to the boy's lips. "Just a few sips to rinse your mouth," he cautioned. "Does anything hurt?"

Bedru shook his head weakly, and Bashir lifted him to carry him a short distance from the mess before laying him on a relatively level space of ground and running yet another tricorder scan.

"Mm. It looks like your hearts are beating at the exact same time; that's what's making you feel sick." He mentally cursed himself for letting it get this bad; why hadn't he been paying closer attention? "Defibrillator, Dax; Bedru, I'm going to pace your heart to get it beating when it should be. It shouldn't hurt, but it might feel a little uncomfortable."

He set the defibrillator to its lowest setting and put the pads over Bedru's heart. The beat was so far off that trying to correct it in one attempt could lead to fibrillation or even cardiac arrest; he paced it once, halfway back to where it should be, then waited several beats and paced it again.

Bedru rubbed his side as Bashir removed the pads, and the doctor smiled sympathetically. "Getting a little sore?"

"Yes," Bedru said apologetically.

"That's understandable; I'm told being shocked feels like someone kicked you, and I probably bruised you a little when I gave you CPR."

Looking at Bedru's skin now in the sunlight, he could see the darkening shadows across it. "Dax, hand me the tissue regenerator; I can take care of some of that bruising, anyway."

He ran the instrument slowly over the bruises, watching as they faded to be almost unnoticeable. "Better?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He ran another tricorder scan, making sure the niter heart was still beating as he had paced it. "You're a little dehydrated, son; that can lead to arrhythmias on its own. Even with the anti-nausea medication I don't want to risk oral fluids just yet; I'm going to have to give you another saline drip."

Chitra made an impatient noise. "We can't stay out here in the open; it's not safe."

"We haven't seen any sign of anyone following us for two days," Dax pointed out. "But I'll keep watch, just in case." She winked at Chitra, lightly touching her phaser, and moved to a rock that would make a good lookout post.

Bashir slipped the respiratory mask back over Bedru's mouth and nose before setting up the IV line. Chitra came and sat by his brother's side, holding Bedru's hand and looking at Bashir with anguished eyes.

The doctor laid a hand on his shoulder. "He'll be all right, Chitra," he promised softly.

 **Next chapter coming next week!**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


	5. Civilization

**Chapter Five: Civilization**

"I can carry Bedru for a while," Chitra offered as Bashir put away his supplies half an hour later.

Bashir shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but I can monitor him more easily when I'm the one carrying him." He chose not to mention the genetic enhancements that gave him more strength than the average human.

"Then I'll carry the medkit," Chitra suggested, turning to Dax.

Understanding his need to feel useful, Dax didn't argue but helped him adjust the strap so the medkit rested comfortably against his back.

As Bashir picked him up again, Bedru sighed and leaned his head against the doctor's shoulder.

Bashir looked sharply at the boy's face. "You all right, son?"

"Just tired," Bedru mumbled through the mask.

"Mm. Try to sleep if you can."

"Maybe you should sedate him," Dax suggested in a low voice, matching Bashir's pace beside him.

Bashir glanced sideways at her. "In general, it's a little redundant to sedate patients who are already falling asleep, barring the need to keep them from waking for a certain length of time. Besides, I'm trying to avoid giving him anything not absolutely necessary; migraines are a pretty rare side effect with admoxasaryfain, and if he's sensitive to that he may have other sensitivities — I don't trust Chitra's knowledge or memory."

"That's why you didn't give him enough pain medication to take away the headache completely," Dax realized. "I had wondered."

Bashir grimaced. "Yes. It's almost unheard of, but a potential side effect of that was an erratic heartbeat…I didn't want to risk it."

"But you have other drugs for pain."

"None of which can be given along with admoxasaryfain."

Dax remained silent, but shot him a glance of respect; even allowing for his enhancements, it still seemed amazing that a human could keep track of so many drugs; their side effects, interactions, and effects on an ever-growing number of species.

Bashir watched over Bedru more closely now, wishing to avoid a repeat of the earlier episode and the potential for even more dangerous rhythms. He stopped to run a tricorder scan every half hour, between times pressing his fingers often to the double pulse point in Bedru's neck.

He had paced Bedru's heart twice more before they arrived at the outskirts of the city; the boy woke each time, but quickly fell asleep again to the gentle rocking motion of Bashir's walking.

As they entered the outskirts of the city, Chitra put a hand in his pocket and studied the bills he pulled out. "I have enough for taxi fare, if we see one to hail."

Bashir merely nodded, his enhancements not preventing the aching weariness in his arms after carrying Bedru for over six hours. He knew he could have carried the boy further if necessary, but it was with genuine relief that he sank into the well-worn seats of the taxi Chitra hailed.

"Central Hospital," Chitra ordered quietly. "And push the speed limit," he added, glancing at his brother's pale face on Bashir's shoulder.

"Just don't get into an accident," Bashir murmured, leaning his head back and closing his eyes for a moment's rest…he doubted he truly needed a full night's sleep yet, but the day's labor left him weary. " _One_ patient is quite enough."

"Yes, sa'ab," the driver agreed, starting down the road at a speed fast enough for urgency, but not reckless.

"I assume this is the hospital at which Bedru is usually treated?" Bashir questioned without moving or opening his eyes.

"Yes. Dr Gibran should be there; he's his cardiologist."

Bashir nodded, sitting up as he felt the taxi come to a stop.

"Here we are, sa'ab; no accidents…and no charge."

Chitra flushed. "I can pay!" he insisted hotly.

"Of course, sa'ab, but for a sick child, there is no fare. Do you want me to go in and have them send a stretcher, sa'ab?"

"No, thank you," Bashir replied, getting out of the door the driver opened for him. He hurried into the emergency entrance of the hospital, Chitra half running to catch up and then dashing ahead to open the door for him. Recognizing Chitra's greater familiarity with the set-up of the hospital, Bashir nodded for the boy to go ahead of him.

"We need to see Dr Gibran," Chitra said tensely to the receptionist behind the desk. "It's my brother Bedru — you have all his records."

She took one look at the boy lying in Bashir's arms and pressed a button to page the doctor and a team of orderlies and nurses.

"Chitra! What happened?"

Chitra smiled tightly. "I suppose you heard about our village…our parents…" He bit his lip, turning his head aside to hide his tears, and the doctor turned toward Bashir with a guarded expression. "I'm Dr Paresh Gibran."

"Dr Julian Bashir," he replied quietly. "Bedru went for three days without his medication," he explained, quickly detailing all that had happened and the treatment he had given.

As he attempted to lay Bedru on the waiting stretcher, the boy roused slightly, whimpering and clinging to Bashir. "Shh," he murmured. "You remember Dr Gibran; he's going to be taking care of you. And I'll be right here in the waiting room if you need me." He gently detached Bedru's clinging hands, then slipped off the respiratory mask so the hospital staff could replace it with one of their own.

"I'll be right here in the waiting room if you have any more questions," he murmured to Dr Gibran, who merely nodded and turned to give orders to the nurses as they wheeled Bedru away.

Bashir crossed to the reception desk, feeling strangely buoyant and as if he might float away without Bedru's weight in his arms. "Excuse me; is there a chance of getting some food for my companions and me?"

"I'll have something sent up from the cafeteria," she told him, a hand on the intercom button.

"Thank you." Joining the others, Bashir took the seat beside Chitra, who sat with his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands; beside him, Dax sat rubbing his back as she attempted to comfort him. *****

Motherly Comfort

In a short time, a young aide appeared with a tray of food. Bashir took it with a nod of thanks and pressed a portion into Chitra's hands. "Eat," he ordered firmly. "You'll be ill yourself if you don't get some nourishment."

Dax glanced at him questioningly, and he scanned the food, pronouncing it safe for both Terran and Trill.

Though, he mused as he nibbled at some unidentifiable object, no more appetizing than hospital food had a reputation of being.

 *** Link to illustration can be found on my profile.**

 **Next chapter coming next week!**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


	6. Consultation

[edited 8-3-16]

 **Chapter Six: Consultation**

It was several hours later before Dr Gibran reappeared; Chitra had several times expressed his worry over the delay, Dax and Bashir each time assuring him that the doctor was simply busy giving Bedru the best possible care.

"I really don't think he's in any immediate danger," Bashir had added. The quick glimpse he had had of the equipment had left him with the impression that though it was of course configured differently than that to which he was accustomed, it was only slightly less modern; he had no fears that more primitive medicine would change the prognosis.

"Chitra?"

Chitra jumped to his feet at the doctor's voice. "How is he?"

"Stable and in good condition; Vishna can take you down to see him."

Chitra turned beseeching eyes on Dax, and she got to her feet. "May I go with him?" she asked quietly.

Dr Gibran hesitated, then nodded. "Very well. Dr Bashir, may I have a few words with you? That will be safe enough there," he added, seeing Bashir's glance at the medkit both Dax and Chitra had abandoned.

"Would you mind putting it behind the reception desk?"

"Of course," Dr Gibran agreed.

Bashir handed the medkit over the counter to the receptionist, then followed Dr Gibran down the hall, wondering uneasily if the Krishnan doctor had some problem with his treatment of the boy. He was confident he had done nothing strictly _wrong_ , but perhaps he had failed to employ some method the doctor was particularly fond of…

"Have a seat," Dr Gibran invited, closing the door of his office behind him. Taking the seat behind the desk, he picked up a writing stylus and began toying idly with it. "I suppose you're aware that you probably saved the boy's life," he said finally.

Bashir relaxed; there was commendation of his work in the doctor's voice rather than censure of his methods. "There's no _probably_ about it," he said seriously.

Dr Gibran sighed deeply. The words could have sounded arrogant, but he recognized them as merely the simple truth. "No…I don't suppose there is. He was very fortunate that you happened to be with him, and that as an off-world doctor you knew how to treat him at all."

Bashir grinned. "I'm a xenologist, chief medical officer on the space station Deep Space Nine; I treat all species."

Dr Gibran merely nodded. "As I said, he was fortunate…and quite honestly, I'm surprised he lasted three days without his medication."

"Three days before he reached the point of collapse," Bashir corrected quietly. "Now that I think of it, he was starting to show symptoms at least the day before. But we were keeping a pretty hard pace, and not knowing about his condition, I'm afraid I just assumed he was tired."

"In a way, it may be a good thing this happened," Dr Gibran mused. "His medication was masking a deterioration of his condition, and his next appointment wasn't for another month. I have the scans of his heart here."

Dimly, Bashir realized that without coming right out and saying so, Dr Gibran was asking him for a consultation or a second opinion; his treatment of Bedru must have impressed the man favorably rather than otherwise.

Dr Gibran touched a switch and the surface of his desk lit up, displaying images from two heart scans. "This one is from today, the other is from his checkup three months ago; you can see the increased damage."

"Yes," Bashir murmured, the differences even more obvious to his enhanced eyes. He glanced up. "You say it was a good thing this happened, but isn't it just possible this worsening of his condition was caused by his having to go without his medication?"

Dr Gibran shook his head. "I think you know as well as I do, Doctor, that admoxasaryfain doesn't actually slow the progression of the disease; it only lessens its effects."

"How long has he been ill?" Bashir asked, not debating the point he knew to be true.

"Six years."

"And I assume this is a marked increase in the rate of deterioration?" he verified, a finger resting on one of the worst areas of the scan.

Dr Gibran sighed heavily. "Yes. We're going to run out of options to treat him…a lot sooner than I had hoped; even with aggressive measures, he could be dead within a year."

"You don't do heart transplants, then?" Bashir questioned, faintly surprised.

"We do, but unfortunately he isn't a candidate. We did the preliminary testing when he was first diagnosed, and he's severely allergic to the anti-rejection drugs; he went into double cardiac arrest and we were almost unable to resuscitate him."

 _And I suppose Chitra failed to tell me of_ _ **that**_ _allergy because he didn't think I would be using those drugs,_ Bashir thought, momentarily annoyed. Then he recalled how young Chitra had been; likely he hadn't been told how sick his brother was or what had caused it. Even now, it seemed he had been unaware of the danger of letting Bedru go without his medication; not overly worried about it until Bedru's collapse. But, he realized now, it was unfair to blame Chitra for having been kept in the dark by parents who had never expected him to so suddenly have the guardianship of his little brother.

Dr Gibran looked up with a hint of desperation in his eyes. "You're from off-world; is there anything more you can do for him?"

Bashir leaned back thoughtfully. "On Deep Space Nine," he said slowly, "I could grow a heart from his stem cells; rejection wouldn't be an issue, so he wouldn't need the drugs."

"And — your people would let you do that for him?"

"Of course," Bashir answered instantly.

"How much would it cost us?"

"Nothing; we're Federation. But I suppose we have to ask permission from Bedru's relatives?"

"Chitra's the only relative he has left," Dr Gibran said soberly. "He's not of age, so technically they're both wards of the state. But we should probably ask Chitra's permission for courtesy's sake…if you're sure you're willing?"

"I'm always willing to do all in my power to save a child's life," Bashir said quietly.

 **Next chapter coming next week!**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


	7. Permission

**Chapter Seven: Permission**

Chitra sat beside his sleeping brother, his eyes never leaving the boy's face as he held his hand. Dax found her heart breaking as she watched him; Bedru was all the family Chitra had left, and there had been a sober expression in Dr Gibran's eyes when he asked to talk with Bashir that made her fear the boy's condition was more serious than Bashir had let on. Had he been downplaying it for Chitra's sake, she wondered; and if so, wasn't it better for him to know the truth? Or had it been his self-confidence… not truly arrogance, Dax admitted to herself, not when so often it was justified. Was it within Bashir's ability to save Bedru, even if the Krishnan doctors dismissed his case as hopeless?

"Chitra, Dr Gibran would like to see you," Vishna said softly, slipping into the room.

Chitra looked up with half wild eyes. "I can't leave him!" he protested.

Dax lightly touched his hand. "I'll stay here with him," she promised.

"But if anything goes wrong —"

"If it comes to that, I think I have a little more first aid training than you do," Dax said wryly. "And I can call Dr Bashir," she added, lightly touching her combadge. "You go on."

With a final, desperate look at his brother, Chitra followed Vishna from the room.

 **oOo**

"Ah, Chitra; come in and have a seat," Dr Gibran invited.

Chitra sat nervously, running a finger along the edge of the desk. "I should be with Bedru," he murmured.

Dr Gibran quirked an eyebrow. "Are you his doctor, then?"

Chitra flushed. "That's not what I meant. If he wakes up and I'm not there…"

Bashir put a hand on his shoulder. "Dax is with him, son; if he's scared because you're not there, she can comfort him, and call me."

"That's what she said," Chitra muttered.

"He's sedated; he shouldn't wake until I want him to, anyway," Dr Gibran put in. "Chitra, I need to talk to you about Bedru's condition."

Chitra looked up sharply. "He'll be all right, won't he?"

"That's partly up to you — though since you're underage, I don't technically need your permission."

"What are you talking about?" Chitra asked desperately, his eyes swinging between the two doctors.

"Easy, son," Bashir murmured. "Dr Gibran, perhaps you should come right to the point."

"Ah, right; of course. Chitra, Bedru's condition has worsened significantly. I fear it will not be long before he starts going into nitral heart failure, but unfortunately, he's not eligible for a transplant due to a severe allergy to the anti-rejection drugs."

Chitra drew in a sharp breath, looking at Bashir with horrified eyes. "I didn't know, I swear!"

"I know. I was expecting too much of you before; I'm sorry."

Dr Gibran frowned, not understanding the conversation. "However," he continued, "Dr Bashir has suggested taking your brother to the Deep Space Nine space station and growing a heart from his own stem cells."

Chitra frowned. "And he wouldn't be allergic to that one?"

"No," Bashir answered. "Grown from his cells, it would be a perfect genetic match, so there would be no need for the drugs he's allergic to."

"How long would it take?" Chitra asked quietly.

Bashir squinted in thought. "There are too many variables to say for sure; two weeks to a month to grow the heart, a month or two to recover."

"You said you'd have to take him to your space station; could I come, too?"

"Certainly. In fact, Dr Gibran, you're welcome to come as well if you like."

Dr Gibran nodded slowly. "I think I would. That is, I take it you agree, Chitra?"

"You're going to do it whether I agree or not…but if that's his only chance, then yes, of course."

Bashir nodded and turned back to the doctor. "My ship will be returning for us tomorrow, but I can ask them to come back if you need more time; how soon would you like to leave?"

Dr Gibran tapped his chin with his stylus. "You have medical equipment on board the ship?"

"About the equivalent of an emergency room, yes."

Chitra snorted softly. "Your _medkit_ is about the equivalent of an emergency room."

Bashir chuckled and didn't argue the point.

"A week should do," Dr Gibran decided. "That will be enough time to make sure Bedru's stable, and to transfer my patients to other doctors. Under other circumstances I'd want to implant a pacemaker as soon as possible, but since he's getting a heart within a month I'll spare his body the stress of surgery and continue to pace his heart externally."

Bashir nodded. "He'll need to stay quarantined in the infirmary anyway to make sure he doesn't get sick before the transplant, so a pacemaker wouldn't allow him all that much more freedom."

"Quarantine?" Chitra questioned anxiously. "Will I be able to see him, then?"

"With proper precautions, yes," Bashir assured him. He squeezed Chitra's shoulder. "Come on; let's go see your brother."

 **oOo**

Chitra sat perched on the edge of Bedru's bed. "So, what do you think of that?" he questioned, having just told him of the heart Bashir was going to grow for him.

Bedru's eyes sparkled. "Will I be able to watch it grow?"

Chitra looked to Bashir for the answer.

"Well, you won't be able to stare at it and see it growing, but you can look at it every day and see if it looks any different."

"And then you'll take out the one that doesn't work right and put the new one in instead?"

"That's right, son."

Bedru sighed contentedly, his eyes starting to drift shut. "An' then I'll never have to come here again…"

 **Next chapter coming next week! (It will be a few days late, though; I'll be busy with VBS most of the week, so I won't have a chance to post until Friday.)**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


	8. Anatomy Lesson

**Chapter Eight: Anatomy Lesson**

Bashir had helped Dr Gibran get Bedru settled in in the small sickbay on board the _Defiant_ , and now for the moment he and Dax were alone together.

"Julian, when did you study Krishnan medicine?" Dax asked; it wasn't a species Starfleet was often in contact with, so she doubted it had been part of his medical school courses.

"I had Krishnan medical files sent to me and read them on the trip over," Bashir replied almost absently.

"Then you _were_ bluffing?" Dax questioned, strangely disappointed.

Bashir looked at her a little oddly. "Bluffing?"

"You looked like you knew exactly what to do," Dax murmured.

"I did. I told you; I read Krishnan medical files on the way over. I always like to familiarize myself with any species I know I'm going to come in contact with, just in case."

Dax stared at him, shaking her head in amazement. "Read…you mean _memorized_. How on Trill did you ever manage to hide your enhancements?"

There was a slight edge to Bashir's smile. "It's easier than you might think. Of course, at Starfleet Medical I pretended to actually have to study — I wasn't taking any chances there — but a photographic memory alone isn't any proof of genetic enchantments. And I'm a xenologist; people expect me to be able to treat all species; most don't think to ask when I studied any particular physiology." There was a trace of bitterness in his voice, a hint of how lonely an enhanced individual could be.

"I gathered that Krishnans have two hearts…?" Dax asked, only mildly curious but attempting to put him in a better frame of mind by causing him to wax eloquent on his favorite topic.

"Yes," Bashir replied, his mood broken at once. "The oxal heart here." He lightly touched his left side just below the ribcage. "And the niter heart is on the right a little lower down."

"Niter heart," Dax murmured, recalling hearing Bashir use the term. "That's the one that's failing, right?"

"Yes. Krishnans essentially have two parallel circulatory systems, though blood flows from one to the other. Blood from the oxal heart picks up oxygen from the upper lobes of the lungs and pumps oxygenated blood through the body; blood from the niter heart picks up nitrogen from the lower lobes and is pumped through a separate set of arteries. Blood returning from the oxal heart goes to the niter heart, and vice versa."

"So that's why you said triox would be worse than useless," Dax realized.

"Yes; his organs were already getting more oxygen than nitrogen, and an imbalance of the two can be more dangerous than being deprived of both at once."

"There's nothing wrong with his oxal heart, is there?" Dax asked soberly.

"No; why?"

"Because when you first asked him if his belly hurt, he said _both_ sides did."

"Ah. In both our species, Dax, chest pain during a heart attack is caused by the heart muscle being deprived of oxygen. In Bedru's case, with his niter heart not pumping efficiently, neither heart was getting enough nitrogen. If the situation had lasted long enough, his oxal heart would have gone into cardiac arrest, too, but fortunately I was able to keep that from happening."

It was a simple statement of fact, Dax realized, even accompanied by the grin that at one time would have led her to consider the remark arrogant boasting.

"And they have to beat exactly in time?" she questioned, by now genuinely interested; it was close to her own biology studies.

"Exactly opposite each other," Bashir specified.

Dax frowned, not understanding.

"Suppose each heart beat every two seconds. That's actually dangerously slow, but we'll use it for the purpose of illustration. If the oxal heart was beating exactly on every odd second, the niter heart would have to beat exactly on every even second."

Dax nodded slowly. "So the niter heart was beating at the wrong time, even after you shocked him."

Bashir shook his head. "That would have been relatively easy to fix. It was beating at a slightly slower rate than the oxal heart, so not only was the timing off, but it kept changing. And the beat was slightly erratic, too, which wasn't helping matters."

"Julian…how many times did you read those Krishnan medical files?"

"Just once; there was so much there that's all I had time for."

"And yet you sound as if you spent weeks studying it."

Bashir grinned. "Well, most of the time I spent studying in Starfleet Medical was really wasted; I learned everything the first time I read it then, too. Reading textbooks is no substitute for practice, but once you know the anatomy, the actual procedures aren't all that different from species to species."

"So if you _hadn't_ had a chance to study those medical files…?"

"I would have scanned Chitra to get an idea of normal readings and 'bluffed,' as you call it."

"And nine chances out of ten, you would have gotten it right," Dax murmured, only half teasing.

Bashir grinned. "Of course."

 **Next chapter coming next week!**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


	9. Growing Interest

[edited 8-4-16]

 **Chapter Nine: Growing Interest**

Within a short time after arriving on the space station, Bashir had Bedru settled in the isolation ward of the infirmary and Chitra and Dr Gibran established in quarters near his own. He waited until the next day to harvest the stem cells, wanting to first be sure Bedru had suffered no ill effects from the stress of travel.

"Will it hurt?" Bedru asked anxiously as Bashir watched a nurse prep him for the procedure.

"Not at all," Bashir assured him. "I'll give you a local anesthetic first, so you won't feel a thing."

He had spent some time discussing with Dr Gibran which compounds the boy was sensitive to, and now was fairly certain he knew which drugs were safe for him, even when they were different from the ones used on Krishnial.

"He's all yours, Doctor."

Bashir nodded with a smile as he stepped forward. "Thank you, Nurse. Now, Bedru, let's get those cells."

He performed the procedure deftly, finishing in little more than half an hour. Leaving Bedru in the care of the nurse and Dr Gibran, he retreated to the lab with the precious vial and spent the next hours bent over the microscope.

 **oOo**

"Can I see it yet?" Bedru asked groggily when Bashir returned to his bedside.

Bashir smiled and ruffled the boy's hair. "You sound a little too tired right now, son; how about waiting until tomorrow? There'll be a bit more to see then, anyway."

"'Kay," Bedru mumbled.

Bashir glanced at the monitors. "He been doing all right?"

"He was paced a couple times, but nothing serious," Dr Gibran responded. "No more than usual lately; I don't think it really had anything to do with the procedure at all. Dr Bashir," he added more quietly, checking to be sure Bedru seemed to be asleep, "are you sure it's wise to let him up to go to the lab and see that heart?"

"Aside from the monitors, he doesn't really need to be on complete bedrest yet," Bashir pointed out; "a little light exercise should help keep his strength up. Something to keep his interest can only be a good thing, and I think the more involved he feels, the less apprehensive he'll be when the time comes for the actual operation."

"You could be right," Dr Gibran admitted. "But you mentioned the monitors; I'm not sure how safe it is to take him off those, even for a short time."

"In my constant company and supervision," Bashir said firmly; "I'll be alert for the slightest sign of trouble."

Dr Gibran sighed. "Your vigilance saved him once already; I suppose I can trust you with him again."

 **oOo**

"It doesn't look much like a heart," Bedru said doubtfully, staring at the cluster of cells on the microscope screen.

"No, not yet," Bashir admitted. "But the cells are starting to form a tube, and then it will double back on itself to form the four chambers of a heart.

"How do you know?" Bedru questioned. "You didn't take the cells from my heart, so how do you know they're gonna make a heart at all?"

"Every cell in your body has instructions for making your whole body," Bashir explained. "In some cells, that information can be 'turned on' to tell them to become a certain body part. I took some of those cells, and told them to start making a heart."

"How?" Bedru demanded.

Bashir shook his head. "I think that's a little complicated for you to understand, and you need to get back to bed; you're looking tired."

Bedru tore himself from the screen with obvious reluctance. "Okay. Will you carry me back, Dr Julian?"

Bashir frowned in concern, his hand automatically going toward his tricorder. "Are you _that_ tired?"

Bedru grinned cheekily. "No; I just like having you carry me. Everyone else always says I'm too big now."

"You are," Bashir said dryly, picking the boy up even as he realized again how small for his age he actually was.

Bedru giggled as he lay his head on Bashir's shoulder in weariness to which he wouldn't admit.

 **oOo**

"Look closely," Bashir encouraged Bedru. "I think you might be able to see it without the microscope today." He himself had been able to see it since the day before, but he knew his eyes were sharper than most.

Bedru looked hard into the container of growth medium. "I see it!" he exclaimed finally. "But it just looks like a dark blob; can I see with the microscope?"

"Of course," Bashir responded, switching it on and adjusting the focus. "At this stage in an embryo the heart would already be beating."

Bedru half turned to look up at him. "Then why isn't it?" he asked a little anxiously.

"Because it isn't receiving any signals from a brain," Bashir explained.

"Oh." Bedru turned and studied the image for another minute. "Dr Julian, what's it gonna look like when it's finished?"

Bashir chuckled. "Come on back to bed now, and I'll bring some pictures to show you."

He kept a hand on Bedru's shoulder as they walked back to his room, then settled him in the bed and watched the monitor long enough to be sure the boy's exertion hadn't seriously affected his heart rate. "I'll be right back," he promised.

A moment later, he returned carrying a datapadd displaying a portion from one of his medical texts. "Here; the words are probably a little technical for you, but this is a picture of a Krishnan heart."

"Are all hearts the same?" Bedru asked curiously after studying the picture for a moment.

Bashir sat on the edge of the bed. "No; some species' are quite different. But most humanoid hearts are pretty similar, though they can have anywhere from two to seven chambers. Here, let me show you." He touched something on the PADD, and a display of several different hearts came up.

"Which one's yours?" Bedru asked, looking up at the doctor.

Bashir chuckled. "This one here," he pointed out.

Bedru studied it for a moment. "It looks the same as mine, 'cept you've only got one, right?"

"Yes," Bashir agreed.

Bedru sighed. "I wish I only had one; then I wouldn't be sick."

Bashir shook his head. "You can't blame it on having two hearts. In many species with dual-cardiovascular systems, the second heart is more of a supplement and a backup, so if one heart fails the other can take over. Your species is different, because both hearts have to work exactly together, but species with only one heart get heart disease, too."

"Yeah, but if I had just one heart, it'd be my good one," Bedru said confidently.

Bashir blinked, even his enhanced mind unable to keep up with the logic of a child. "How do you know that?" he questioned.

"'Cause my good heart's the left one, an' yours is on the left — I know, 'cause I heard it when you were carrying me," Bedru explained as if it was obvious.

"Closer to the center, and not all species with only one heart have it on the left," Bashir pointed out with a chuckle; "I don't think we really have any way of knowing which side Krishnans' would be on if they had only one. But you need to get some rest now."

Bedru caught at his hand as he started to rise. "Dr Julian, can I ask you something first?"

"Go ahead," Bashir said gently.

"You said my cells had the instructions for making a heart."

"That's right."

"Well, if it's the same instructions they used the first time, how do we know the new heart's gonna be any good?" His voice broke, and he blinked back tears.

Bashir sat back on the edge of the bed, taking the boy's hand in his. "Bedru, there are several things that could have caused your heart to start failing — you might have had an infection of some kind, or even suffered trauma before you were born. We'll probably never know the cause for sure, but I think it's safe to say it's not genetic — that it has nothing to do with the instructions in your cells."

"But it _could_ ," Bedru insisted.

Bashir shook his head. "I checked the gene sequence when I was starting the heart growing; it looked perfectly normal. And you pointed out yourself that your oxal heart is fine — I would even say exceptionally healthy. That's made from the same instructions as the niter heart; just in mirror image, so if the problem was genetic, it would affect both." He squeezed Bedru's hand and stood. "Now, you really do need to rest," he said with a note of finality.

"Okay," Bedru said with a sigh. "Thanks, Dr Julian."

Bashir gave him a brief smile and tapped his combadge to call the nurse before leaving the room.

Entering his office and taking the seat behind the desk, he buried his face in his hands, thinking again how deeply grateful he was that he had found no irregularities in the genetic sequence. Because if that had been where the problem lay, Starfleet be hanged, he would have _fixed_ it and hoped nobody looked close enough to notice.

Both medically and morally, giving the boy not an enhanced heart, but simply a normal one rather than one that was genetically defective, was a far cry from what had been done to him. From any other doctor, Starfleet might accept the defense that fixing the heart genetically before it was grown was little different than fixing it surgically afterward; technically it was even legal. But he knew there were those in Starfleet who believed he never should have been acquitted; who thought he was breaking the law against genetic resequencing simply by existing. They were watching, perhaps even hoping, for any sign of him engaging in genetic engineering.

But when his enhancements were discovered, he had promised himself that never again would he put his own freedom and career above the Oath he had sworn as a doctor. If it ever came to it, he would follow his conscience, not the prejudices of Starfleet, and do what was best for his patient.

Yet he would always hope it never came to that.

 **Next chapter coming next week!**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


	10. Anticipation

**Chapter Ten: Anticipation**

After nearly three weeks, the heart was ready for implantation, and Bashir scheduled Bedru's surgery for the next day. He had asked Dr Gibran to assist him, but while the doctor had accepted, he had realized Bashir asked him more out of courtesy than anything else. He had noticed the slight shift as soon as they boarded the station. On Krishnial and even on the ship, Bashir had deferred to him; here, Dr Bashir was clearly the one in charge.

Currently, he was familiarizing Dr Gibran with the Federation equipment in anticipation of the next day's surgery.

"Do you typically put both hearts on bypass?" Bashir questioned after going over the standard bypass procedure with the doctor.

"No. I'm sure you're aware that it can take some time after restarting a heart for it to settle into a normal rhythm; when you have to restart both at once it's even harder to get them in sync, and you run more risk of dangerous patterns. We typically pace the heart we're not working on, and have a team standing by ready to resuscitate and go to bypass if necessary."

Bashir nodded. "That's what I surmised. Do you have questions about any of the other equipment?"

Dr Gibran shook his head. "No, I think you've covered everything."

Bashir smiled and rested a hand on the man's shoulder as he accompanied him out. "Then I look forward to working with you tomorrow."

 **oOo**

Late that evening, Bashir made a last round of the infirmary before going off duty for the night. When he entered Bedru's private room, he saw the faint reflection of light from the boy's wide-open eyes.

"Why are you still awake?" he questioned lightly, glancing briefly at the monitors before crossing to his side.

"I can't sleep," Bedru admitted.

Bashir sat on the edge of the bed. "Scared?" he questioned, lightly squeezing the hand that had inched its way into his own.

"A-a little."

"Don't worry; you'll come through fine."

Bedru sighed. "Have you…ever done this before?"

"A heart transplant? No, but Dr Gibran has, and he'll be helping me. And I once took a piece of metal out of a heart without putting the patient on bypass."

"Is that harder than a transplant?" Bedru asked, sounding more interested now than scared.

"Well, riskier, anyway; most doctors wouldn't have attempted it." He smiled slightly, remembering how nearly he had come to blows with a medic who, not knowing about his enhancements, had thought him crazy. But Bashir had pulled rank, operating with his limited equipment in time to save the man's life. He had never been sure afterward that that particular medic didn't believe he had god-like powers of healing.

"Then I'm _not_ scared," Bedru insisted. "I just…can't stop thinking about it."

"Well, you need your rest, so I'm going to give you something to help you sleep."

"Dr Julian?"

"Yes, son?"

"Will you…stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Bashir brushed the hair back from Bedru's face. "Of course, son. You just relax now; I'll take care of everything."

 **Next chapter coming next week!**

 **A/N: I read that the first open heart surgery really** _ **was**_ **performed before bypass was invented, so there's no reason Bashir couldn't do it! Barbie**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. (I also have a chronological list of my stories, so you can see where they fall on my timeline.) Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


	11. Surgery

**Chapter Eleven: Surgery**

Dr Gibran felt strangely as if he had returned to his intern days as he took the place of assistant beside Dr Bashir. He wished now that he had insisted on being the main surgeon himself; how much did he really know about this young doctor, anyway? Yes, he had saved Bedru's life, and everyone on the station seemed to regard his skill highly. But he wasn't a cardiologist; he was a xenologist — someone who attempted to "specialize" in treating every condition of every species, and so truly mastered none.

But he didn't voice his misgivings, and as he watched Bashir's slender fingers dance deftly over the instruments, he found the doubts vanishing. Dr Gibran had performed dozens of heart transplants himself; in his younger days had assisted at dozens more, but never had he seen anyone operate with the cool, calm efficiency of this doctor. "Are you sure you've never done a heart transplant before?" he couldn't help asking.

"Heart transplant, no," Bashir said absently, concentrating on connecting the delicate network of blood vessels that surrounded the heart, supplying it with oxygenated blood from the oxal heart. "Open-heart surgery, yes."

Dr Gibran merely shook his head, wondering if Bashir truly needed an assistant at all.

 **oOo**

At last Bashir competed the final minute nerve connection. "Now filling heart," he announced quietly, releasing the clamps that allowed glittering golden blood to flow into the new heart. "Bypass on standby," he ordered.

Dr Gibran found himself holding his breath, watching the oxal heart monitor for the exact moment Bashir would shock the new heart to life.

"Normal rhythm and holding," Bashir said with satisfaction.

"It never ceases to amaze me," Dr Gibran murmured, watching the newly-beating heart with awe.

Bashir merely glanced at him, but Dr Gibran fancied he saw some of the same wonder in the younger doctor's eyes.

"Take him off bypass," Bashir ordered quietly. "Dr Gibran, will you do the honor of closing?"

Dr Gibran hesitated, then shook his head. "The honor should be all yours, Dr Bashir; carry on."

Bashir smiled and took the regenerator the nurse handed him to begin closing the incision. Seven hours after beginning the operation, he laid down the instrument and checked Bedru one more time before giving the nurse instructions for his care and beckoning Dr Gibran from the room.

"So, how does it feel to have completed your first successful heart transplant?"

Bashir ginned. "You can stop sounding like I'm an intern you just finished training; putting that heart in was easier than some of the operations I've done to patch them up. And some of it was field surgery, without the benefit of bypass."

"You're joking," Dr Gibran said flatly.

"Not at all."

"Well, I'm glad you told me _after_ I'd seen you work, then, or I might have thought you were crazy."

"And now?"

"Now all I can say is you're one of the best surgeons I've ever seen, and this station is very fortunate to have you."

 **Final chapter coming next week!**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. (I also have a chronological list of my stories, so you can see where they fall on my timeline.) Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


	12. Looking Ahead

**Chapter Twelve: Looking Ahead**

"It was nice of Dr Gibran to offer to let Chitra and Bedru live with him," Dax commented, sitting in Quark's with Bashir after seeing the Krishnans off nearly a month after Bedru's surgery.

Bashir grinned. "His wife died years ago; he told me he's always wanted a son to follow in his footsteps."

"Chitra wants to be a doctor?" Dax questioned.

Bashir shook his head. "Bedru. Some people who spend time in the hospital as children never want to go near the place again; others become fascinated with medicine and their particular problem. Bedru's a budding cardiologist; he was thrilled that I let him watch when I performed the biopsy on his old heart. Dr Gibran's more than willing to pay to put him through medical school, but I told him I'd be happy to write a letter of recommendation for any scholarship he wants to apply for."

Dax wrapped her hands around her drink, slowly turning the glass. "You know, Julian, I don't think I ever realized before how good you are with children."

Bashir chuckled. "Well, you've had no reason to observe when I've had one of the station children in for a checkup. You've only seen me treat children in triage situations, when I'm forced to think in terms of injuries rather than individuals. Bedside manner gets lost at times like that."

Dax shook her head. "Not to say you don't have a good bedside manner, Julian, but it's more than just that. I think…you'd make a good father someday."

Bashir grinned. "And are you offering to bear my children?"

Dax blushed and looked away. "I'm just saying…it's something to think about."

The End

 **A/N: I'm going to be concentrating on Twilight for the next couple months, but starting in October or November I plan to post a Deep Space Nine story involving time travel and a mysterious planet-wide epidemic. Barbie**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. (I also have a chronological list of my stories, so you can see where they fall on my timeline.) Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


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